


Houseplants for Beginners

by thingsyoumissed (orphan_account)



Category: Cobra Starship, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thingsyoumissed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, how Spencer Smith and Nate Navarro fell in love over <i>Philodendron scandens ssp. oxycardium</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Houseplants for Beginners

1\. 

Summer comes, and with it two things: forty hours a week, because he doesn't have class, and new people, because apparently high school kids need summer jobs. 

Except most of the new employees turn out to be college kids on break, the same as him, except he's been working here for three fucking years and they're just here to make enough money to keep themselves in beer and McDonald's for two semesters of partying. 

No, Spencer's not bitter. Not at all. 

*

The last few weeks have brought truckload after truckload of outdoor plants: brightly-colored annuals, sturdy perennials, tiny tomato seedlings that Gerard sets reverently in the vegetable greenhouse. "Don't make a face," Jon says to Spencer as they help unload the racks. "You do the exact same thing to the orchids."

"Shut up," Spencer tells him. "I am so not that bad."

Jon grins. There's a still streak of dirt on his forehead from where a tray of violas had upended on him, mostly Gabe's doing. "So, your new helper starts tomorrow."

"What? No, oh no, Jon - you _promised_ there would be no one else!" Spencer pauses, looking at him carefully. "Did Dusty approve this?"

"Hey, who's the assistant manager here?" Jon replies, an entirely fake expression of pain on his face. "Dusty actually wants to take her vacation time this year, Spence, so you're getting a helper. He starts tomorrow, and you're going to be nice. Or else."

Spencer sets down the last of today's shipment of alyssum. "Or else what?"

"Cleanup duty?" Jon tries, but it's a completely empty threat and they both know it. 

*

"The customers are touching the plants again," Spencer whispers harshly to Brendon, glaring through the half-open 'employees only' door. "Touching them, Brendon. You know I don't like it when little kids mess with the schefflera." 

Brendon gives him a look. "Dude, come on. It'll take more than being touched by little kid fingers that are sticky with ketchup to kill your beloved schefflera." Spencer crosses his arms over his chest, unconvinced. Brendon narrows his eyes. "Look, Spencer, I'm just a lowly floor supervisor, I can't go tell the customers to make their children stop touching things."

"Greta tells them all the time," Spencer grumbles. 

Brendon shuts the door. "There. Now you don't have to witness the massacre."

"Excuse me, are you Spencer?" someone says, and they both turn around. "Uhm, hey Brendon."

"Hey, Nate. Spencer was trying to hide from you."

"I was not, jackass, I was hiding from _kids touching my plants_."

"He's a little touchy about the houseplants," Brendon whispers. 

Spencer elbows Brendon hard in the ribs, then sticks out his hand to the guy, apparently named Nate. "You, uhm, must be the new guy." 

"Yup, I'm Nate." He's possibly smaller than Spencer is (well, except across the shoulders), smiling and rocking back on his heels. He's wearing a Ramones t-shirt underneath his vest. Spencer figures Jon forgot to tell him the rule about clothes with writing on them, namely that Patrick will flip if he sees clothes that aren't _plain_. "It's Nathan, actually, but only my mom calls me that."

Spencer nods, ignoring Brendon's smirk. "Well, come on, I'll give you the tour."

*

"Spencer Smith, your mom is here, Spencer," Jon's voice booms over the intercom, and Spencer glares up towards the ceiling, as if the force of his displeasure at being interrupted could move through the PA and send an electrical shock into Jon's ear. 

"My mom's not really here," he tells Nate, who nods. 

"I know, dude; I already figured out what car belongs to who. So what's this one again?"

"Heart-leaf philodendron. They're popular, so they move out pretty quick. You won't have to baby them too much since they're not in here long." Spencer looks at the display and frowns. "Unless one gets jammed into the back and falls down behind the shelf," he adds, and reaches in to the mass of leaves to rescue the fallen plant. 

Nate leans forward on the balls of his feet to try and help, looking sadly at the wilted philodendron in Spencer's hands. "So, uhm, do we clearance out the half-dead ones or what? I'll buy it if we do. I need some more plants and it looks like it needs a place to live."

"Here," he says to Nate, shoving the pot at him. "I'd be throwing this one away, anyway. Take it home and make it better. You fix it, I totally trust you with my plants."

Nate nods vigorously. "I should probably confess. Jon warned me about you. But it's cool, actually, dude. It's awesome that you like your job."

Spencer coughs and rolls his eyes. "The plants I like. The job? I could do without it," he says firmly, just as Jon gets on the intercom again and tells them all to get the fuck out of the store and go home before he locks them in the building.

*

The lunchroom is blessedly cool, and Spencer pulls one of his water bottles from the freezer and presses it against his neck, sighing. He could sit down, but instead he leans against the Pepsi machine, savoring the quiet for a minute. It's the only place in the store that the elevator music doesn't reach. Then someone coughs, and Spencer opens his eyes. 

"You okay?" Nate asks, hovering in the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You look..." Nate makes an indeterminable gesture. "Hot. Are you wearing sunscreen?"

Spencer nods, biting back a comment about how he's not _twelve_ and he's been working here long enough to know when sunscreen is necessary (half the spring, the whole summer, and half of fall) and when it isn't (just winter), but he's too tired. "The heat doesn't always agree with me," he says finally. He takes a long drink from his non-frozen water, then looks at Nate out of the corner of his eye. "Are _you_ wearing sunscreen?"

"Dude, I learned my lesson."

Spencer tries not to smile and fails. "Good. I wouldn't have wished that sunburn on anyone, man. Not even Gabe at his most annoying."

Nate scrunches up his face and Spencer can see where his nose is peeling, raw and red, new skin shiny underneath. "I should probably get back out there," Nate says. "See you outside."

Spencer takes another drink of water and wonders if Nate had followed him in here just to check on him, then laughs. He sticks the big bottle back in the freezer and the small one in the pocket of his shorts, then stands underneath the air conditioning vent (the only one that really works in the entire place) for two whole sweet unmoving minutes before making his way back out into the heat.

*

"Seriously, seriously," Ryan's saying to Jon, standing behind the floral design counter. "I think we should have a big party, you know, when the season is over."

"The season doesn't end, Ryan, we just put everything on clearance," Jon responds, but Spencer can see that he's grinning, and also that he's holding Ryan's hand underneath the shelf.

"You two are so gross," Spencer announces. They look at him, Ryan a little guiltily, Jon as if he doesn't know what Spencer's talking about. "Patrick is probably watching you on camera."

"He's not even here," Jon says, at the same time Ryan says, "There's no camera at this angle, you idiot," and Spencer just raises an eyebrow. "I'm going back to work," Jon adds in a loud voice, and heads towards the fountain display. 

"Greta's going to come and kick you out from back there in about thirty seconds," Spencer says to Ryan.

"She won't, she loves me. Besides, she keeps saying she's going to show me how to tie ribbons."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm serious!"

"Are you inviting everyone to this party you're having?" Spencer asks, curious. And maybe just a little jealous. Ever since Ryan and Jon figured out their stupid crushes were mutual, Ryan's been spending more and more time with Jon, and less with Spencer. He's trying not to let it get to him. He doesn't have very many other friends, and it's not like there's a lot of other people in the store he wants to eat lunch with. Nate would be okay, but since they're in the same department, they're only allowed to take lunch together if they're on the same shift as Dusty. Which is never. And that's mainly Spencer's fault, since he's the one who volunteered for the late shift, but there's only so many times he wants to eat lunch with Gabe before he has no goodwill towards men left at all. 

Ryan shrugs. "If there's a party, you're totally invited. But I have to find out for sure when my mom's going to visit her sister, you know?"

"Right, I get that." He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "All right, I should stop standing around. And you should really get out from behind there before Greta fucks you up."

*

"Dude, party!" Jon whispers loudly, and stuffs a piece of paper into Spencer's pocket as they walk past each other. Patrick is actually in the store today, so everyone is on their best behavior and wearing clothes that actually fit guidelines for once, and all just generally trying to be _good_. Even if Patrick will probably not leave the nice air-conditioned office, there's still a whole bank of monitors and the chance that he could page any one of them upstairs to be reprimanded at any moment. 

Spencer waits until he's inside the cooler before pulling out the flier, chuckling as he reads. Only Ryan would make hand-drawn fliers for his _store party_ and get Jon to pass them out, as opposed to posting a note above the punch clock like everyone else does for whatever event they wanted people to come to. It's not like Ryan isn't inviting everyone to this one, including management. 

He puts the flier in his wallet and fills his arms with dripping bouquets, having long ago resigned himself to having water spots on his shoes. This part of the job is one of the reasons why he wears the worst shoes he owns to work, which can be painful sometimes, especially when it's near Christmas and they have to wear good clothes but still crappy shoes, because nice ones just get ruined. 

Brendon appears out of nowhere and takes half the flowers away from him. "Thanks, Bren," he says, and refills his arms with roses this time while Brendon just sighs at the futility of it all. "You going to Ryan's party?" Spencer whispers as they carry the flowers up to the front of the store.

"I think so." Brendon slides the bouquets into the empty bucket and shakes the water off his hands. "You?"

"Probably."

"Make sure you invite Nate, okay? I'm half-afraid Ryan will forget to count him and the rest of the summers when buying chips and pretzels." It's not an empty fear, Ryan's been known to forget about a large portion of the seasonal employees when planning his parties, and Spencer distinctly remembers one barbecue where most of them showed up and ate all the food in under ten minutes. Ryan had been pissed, while Spencer had laid on the deck and laughed, telling him that's what he got for not realizing how many people 'the whole store' really was. 

"Yeah, okay."

"You need any more help? I'm trying to avoid the fertilizer room. I'm afraid it's going to explode."

Spencer stares at him for a moment. "Dude, you better just do it. You do know Patrick's here today, don't you?" 

And as if on cue, the intercom dings, and there's Patrick's voice, calling _Brendon to the office, please, Brendon to the office_. Spencer just grins as Brendon flees in terror.

*

"Can I ask you something?" Spencer says to Nate as they unwrap peace lilies in the back room one night.

"Sure."

"Would you, uhm, be adverse to staying on once school starts again?" He kind of can't believe that Dusty _and_ Jon are making him be the one to ask. He's not anyone's boss, for christ's sake, he's just the plant guy. "Usually everyone gets fired at the beginning of August, but Dusty likes you, and-"

"Yeah, that'd be sweet," Nate interrupts him. 

"It's just a few hours a week."

"Cool. My folks are insisting I have a job this year anyway, and staying here means I don't have to go work at Home Depot like everyone else I know-"

"You'd make more money," Spencer points out.

Nate shrugs. "So would you."

"I couldn't work there," he replies, horrified at the thought. "They don't water their plants!"

Nate loses it, doubling over with laughter, nearly dropping the lily he's holding. "Sorry," he huffs, "sorry, Spence, it was just the way you said it," and then he's laughing again. Spencer takes the plant away from him and hip-checks him into the fresh flower cooler, but even that doesn't convince his mouth not to smile. 

"So, uhm, Ryan's having a party next week; did you hear about it?" he asks.

"Yeah, I think Gabe mentioned it." Nate rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks still a little pink, and reaches for another lily. 

"You coming?"

"If my car's out of the shop, probably. I can't really ask my mom to drive me to a party."

"I'll pick you up," Spencer offers, before he can even think about what he's saying.

"Really?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

*

Spencer ends up promising to buy Dusty lunch for a week so she'll trade shifts with him the day of Ryan's party, and then he gets stuck behind a funeral procession on the way home that afternoon, and the shirt he'd been thinking about wearing has a pollen stain on it that he totally hadn't noticed before so he has to find something else to wear, and then shoes that kind of match. Then he forgets the directions Nate gave him in the pocket of his work shorts and has to go back for them, so it's almost seven-thirty by the time he pulls up in front of Nate's house. 

"Sorry I'm late," he says in a rush as Nate opens the passenger door and slides in. 

"It's cool, Spence, breathe." Nate smiles at him, and Spencer realizes this is the first time he's seen Nate in real clothes. It's just jeans and a t-shirt, but it's something besides the ugly khaki shorts with the store logo and stupid store vest. 

"I got stuck behind a forty-car funeral procession on the way home," he says, and leaves out the part where he'd have probably left his head behind if it wasn't attached to the rest of him.

*

There's music pouring out of Ryan's house when they get there, light spilling out open doors and windows. "I hope no one calls the cops tonight," Spencer says.

Nate elbows him. "Hey, what's being young and reckless if the cops don't show up at least once?"

Spencer is again stuck trying very hard not to smile and failing miserably. "You're all right, Nate Novarro," he says. "I guess we can keep you around."

Nate beams at him, and Spencer nudges him with his arm, and Nate bumps him with his hip, and then Ryan is coming out of the house, shouting. "Where the fuck have you guys been? Get in here, come on, Spence, I need you to take over the music for a while so I can make Jon dance with me!"

" _Fine_ ," Spencer huffs, aiming for long-suffering and ending up with lamely affectionate, and follows Ryan inside. Someone presses a cup into his hand (it's Gabe, so probably something he might not want to drink, and Spencer sets it down on the closest table, noting he's already lost Nate to the crush of people) and then Ryan is wrestling the iPod out of Jon's grasp and shoving it into Spencer's.

*

"I don't think Brendon is going to have much luck," a voice whispers in his ear. Spencer turns just enough to see that it's Nate, pressed close to him, and then keeps looking to see where Nate's gaze is locked. Brendon is leaning against the half-wall going into Ryan's mom's kitchen, holding a plastic cup in one hand and gesturing with the other, having what appears to be an actual conversation with Katie. "It took him three cups of beer to get up the nerve," Nate continues, and Spencer sucks in a breath and pretends that Nate's lips didn't just brush his ear. "He's going to pass out before he gets anywhere."

"He'd have fallen over by now if he wasn't leaning on the wall," Spencer replies. "And I can't figure out how he's keeping his balance gesturing like that."

"How long do you have to be in charge of the music?" Nate asks, and lays his hand on Spencer's wrist. "I'd kind of like to dance with you, you know? Unless you don't dance with guys. Or, uhm, dance at all. But. Yeah."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Spencer swallows hard. "I could probably - playlist, yeah."

"Good idea."

He fumbles a little spinning through the albums, picking enough songs that it'll last for a while, trying not to think about dancing with Nate to any (or all) of the tracks. Then suddenly Jon appears behind him, grabs the iPod straight out of his hands, and then shoves him right at Nate. Whose arms come around his waist before either of them can really think about it, and Spencer sees Jon roll his eyes - there will be dead plants in Jon's car for that, possibly rotting ones - and the music changes. Not to the song Spencer had picked first, either. Something he doesn't recognize, something slow. And Nate is pulling him further into the open empty space and Spencer says, right against Nate's ear, "I haven't even had anything to drink, you know?"

Nate pulls back just a little. "Do you need to drink to dance with me?" he asks, his eyes wide.

Spencer shakes his head. "No, no, that wasn't what I meant-" but Nate puts a hand over his mouth to shut him up, and Spencer realizes he'd kind of like that hand on his waist again, thanks, so he stops talking and they fit themselves together and it's - nice. It's nice. 

Nate smells like cypress and other green things and his mouth is very close to Spencer's ear when he says, "wait, just a sec" and rearranges them so that Spencer's arms are around his waist and his arms are around Spencer's shoulders and. That's better. Spencer finds he can hold on tighter this way. 

 

2\. 

Classes start, and leaves begin to fall from the trees. Spencer stands in the side door, watches as Jon and Gerard and Mikey move what's left of the nursery stock into smaller and smaller groups, marking it cheaper and cheaper, until nearly all of it is gone. He goes to class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday: Arboriculture I right at eight in the morning, and Soil Fertility at ten-fifteen. A whole class on the relationship between plants and soil. 

The way he thinks about it, there's some people who feel the need to know, but they can't feel it just by putting their fingers in the dirt. 

Tuesday mornings before he goes in to the store, he spends two hours at the nature sanctuary, helping to ready the gardens for winter. It's quiet and he's alone most of the time, busy weeding and dead-heading, mulching over some of the more sensitive plants. Then he changes his shoes and drives to work, enough time in between for a sandwich from the drive-through. 

He sees Nate for five minutes here and there, when they're trading off shifts. After Ryan's party, Nate had backed way off, and Spencer hadn't had a clue what to do. "Maybe alcohol made him bold," Jon suggests at lunch one Thursday, over french fries and milkshakes. 

"Shouldn't I have had my sexuality crisis by now?" Spencer groans, his head on his folded arms on the table (too sticky to _not_ put your arms down first). "Like, years ago, you guys? I'm fucking _twenty_."

He misses the look that he knows Jon and Ryan probably share, and then Jon says, "I didn't think I liked boys until I met Ryan," as if that's really supposed to help.

*

One of the orchids is drooping, and Spencer scoops it up off the display with a sigh. He takes it back to the workstation and reaches to turn on the Grow-Lite, but someone else beats him to it. "Hey, Spence," Nate says. "You working tonight?"

"Yeah." He digs the misting bottle off the shelf and goes to the sink to refill it. "You?"

"Yep." 

In the florescent light, Nate's face looks strange. Spencer risks another glance as he starts misting the plant. "Are you okay, dude?" he asks, aiming for the most neutral tone of voice he can manage, trying not to think about what Nate felt like tucked against him in the middle of Ryan's living room. 

"Yeah, just... I. Life stuff," Nate says. "It's not the best at home right now," he finishes quietly and shrugs. "I'll go start sweeping the greenhouse, okay?"

"Nate, hey, wait-" But Nate's already slipped through the door. 

*

"Dude, you can't leave the wind-spinners like that," he tells Gabe as he goes past, pushing a cart full of mums in yellow, white, rust and burgundy. "Brendon will kill you," he adds over his shoulder. Gabe is grinning. Spencer shakes his head. Knowing Gabe, he wants to get caught. 

The store is pretty dead today, the cashiers leaning against their counters reading magazines, Gerard and Mikey re-stacking hay bales just for something to do outside. Greta and her girls are putting the finishing touches on the Halloween display, a full month before the actual event. Jon and Ryan are moving the last of the statues out of the garden shop, getting it ready for Christmas. 

Spencer doesn't want to think about Christmas yet. He's just gotten used to the emptiness of the store, the autumn colors outside. One by one, he sets the mums in the gift plant display, mixing the colors, until the cart is empty. He repeats the process: outside for the plants, the back room for foil wrappers, the front to set them out. After three trips, the display is no longer overwhelmed by the green of the ornamental bamboo and dish gardens. 

"Do you need me to do anything?" Nate asks from behind him, and Spencer turns, his hands full of crackling yellow-dry leaves from a few plants that hadn't gotten enough water (no matter how hard they tried to keep everything watered, there were always some that were missed). "It's five o'clock," Nate continues, half smiling. "Time for you to go home. Dusty says no overtime this week."

No one's getting any overtime anymore, now that the weather's changed. "Few more weeks, there will be so many poinsettias, we'll all need OT just to keep them wet," Spencer replies. "If you wanna make up a couple of the terrariums tonight to replace the ones that sold, that would be cool, otherwise I think there's some succulents that need a little TLC."

He meets Nate's eyes as he says it, willing Nate to tell him what had happened, what had changed. But Nate just says, "succulents, got it," and takes Spencer's cart and wheels it away.

*

Spencer's just changed into some pajamas and dug his arboriculture assignment out of his backpack when his cell phone buzzes. "What, Ross?"

"Dude, Nate has no ride home; his parents both have issues," Ryan says, getting right to the point. "Come back here and say you'll give him a ride. Maybe you two can talk."

Spencer's already shoving his feet into his loafers. They look ridiculous with his pajamas, but he doesn't care. He pulls a sweatshirt on, jams a hat on his head, and grabs his keys. 

*

"Get in," he says to Nate, pulling up outside the store. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

"I don't really want to go home," Nate says, and he gets in Spencer's car. 

Spencer nods and drives to his own house, parks on the street. "Do, uhm, do you want to tell me?" he asks. "You can come inside, my mom's at work. There's leftovers. Or we could stay out here and talk." He doesn't say, _but it's warmer in there_.

"Leftovers would be nice," Nate says quietly, and that's settled. 

*

Spencer warms up a bowl of spaghetti for Nate and mugs of hot chocolate for them both, and then sits down. Wraps his hands around his mug and waits. Tries not to watch Nate lick his fork. Finally Nate says, "Just ask, Spencer."

"What happened?"

"Uhm, first I kind of freaked out. You know, after the party. Then I told my mom what I'd freaked out about, because she was being all... mom-like, concerned and stuff about why I was, you know, freaking. And then she freaked out." Nate sets down his fork. "That's the very short version."

"Are you still living at home?" Spencer asks quietly, doing his best not to flip out at imagining the same exchange with his own mother. 

"Yeah. Yes. It's not that bad. She's just having a whole fucking crisis about whether or not she's ever going to get grandchildren." He slumps down further in the chair. "I think she wants to be one of those young, hip grandmothers," he says, and Spencer can't help but grin. Nate gives him a small smile. "I'm too young for that life decision shit, dude. But you get why I'm not excited about going home to my house? My mom keeps _asking me stuff_."

Spencer nods and taps his fingers on the cup. "At the risk of... can I ask you another question?" Nate gives him a look. "How the hell did you walk around at the store all shift in a pink Rolling Stones t-shirt and not get in trouble?" 

"A mystery that shall never be solved," Nate replies. "Plus, it probably had something to do with Brendon being the only supervisor on tonight. I think the more pressing question is, was my not having a ride so big a deal that you left the house in pajama pants and a hoodie and _loafers_?"

"Maybe," Spencer offers. Nate slides his hand across the table, and Spencer meets it with his own. 

"I'm sorry I've been ignoring you," Nate murmurs.

"As long as you don't do it again." And that gets the smile he'd been looking for. 

*

Spencer's mom comes home just as they've finished their hot chocolate and Spencer kind of stumbles through introductions. "I should probably go home," Nate says when she's left the kitchen, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "You working tomorrow?"

"After class, yeah." Spencer puts his hat back on. 

Outside Nate's house, Spencer puts the car in park. Nate unbuckles his seat belt. "I had a good time at Ryan's party, you know? It was nice, being like that. With you. Except later I thought too hard about it. I never really found any guys hot until I met you, Spence."

Spencer realizes he's nodding really hard. "I know, dude, I totally know."

Nate leans over a little, and Spencer leans in a little, and then Nate's hand slides around the back of his neck and they're kissing. Nate's lips are chapped and dry, and Spencer licks them, tastes hot chocolate and marshmallows. Nate makes a soft noise, tries to shift closer, but the car gets in the way. Spencer manages to get one hand underneath Nate's coat, still pressing their lips together. 

There's a flash of lights outside and they pull apart, and Spencer feels like his face is on fire. "Fuck."

"Yeah." Nate presses a hand to his mouth. "Uhm." He opens the door, swings his legs out, then stops and looks over his shoulder. "Maybe we should try that someplace that isn't a car next time," he suggests.

"That would be nice," Spencer replies, and no, his voice isn't the least bit shaky. 

 

3.

Winter comes and the days all start late, making it even harder for Spencer to drag himself out of his warm bed every morning in the dark. Cold wind buffets his car, his classrooms, the store. The roof leaks when the snow melts. "Maybe they should have paid for a new roof instead of that fence they put up so that we'd match the other stores," Ryan says, standing with Spencer and Brendon near the leak, watching water drip into a bucket. 

"Dudes, is this the entertainment for the day?" Gabe says, coming up behind them.

"For now," Brendon replies. "It's supposed to start snowing again in like half an hour and you know there won't be any customers if there's a fucking snowstorm."

"Language," Ryan hisses.

"Yeah, yeah, Ross; Patrick's three counties away, dude."

"He'll still know."

"He's like that," Gabe adds. 

Spencer rolls his eyes. 

*

There is indeed a fucking snowstorm and three-quarters of the late shift call and say they're not leaving their houses. "Can you stay?" Brendon begs Spencer. "Please. Just so we have enough people on the floor and I don't get fired for running the store with only three employees. _Including_ me."

"It's not like there's going to be anyone shopping here," Spencer groans, but Brendon puts on the most pleading expression in his arsenal and mentions that Spencer and Nate can make out in the fertilizer room if they feel like it, precisely because there will be no customers.

"Plant shop," Spencer intones. "Or the cubes."

Brendon's eyes widen. "Please tell me you will not be doing anything that involves taking your clothes off in _any_ of the cubes," he says, and Spencer smirks. "Okay, okay, I know you wouldn't be the first one to do it, but." He shudders. "It's _cold_ in the back room."

"I'm glad you care so much about our health, Bren," Spencer says dryly, and goes to see if Nate's made it in yet.

*

They sit on the floor of the sign shop, legs pressed together from hip to ankle. "You know everyone kind of knows, right?" Spencer asks, because he feels like he has to ask. 

Nate nods, tips his head onto Spencer's shoulder. "This place - it feels like it's a whole 'nother universe, you know? Like all the things that happen here never make it out the doors," he says, and Spencer nods, because he completely understands. "So I'm okay with people knowing here, I guess. As long as we're not making out in the plant shop when my mom comes to buy some new ferns. She killed hers."

"Too much water?" Spencer ventures.

"Too cold," Nate replies. He presses his face into Spencer's neck, and Spencer reaches up to slide his fingers through Nate's hair. "So, uhm, my parents are going to my cousin's wedding in Ohio in March," he mumbles into Spencer's skin. "I know it's still like four months away and I don't want to jinx things or whatever, but they'll be gone for a week. Do you think you might want - if we're still hanging out and stuff - wanna sleep over?"

Spencer turns his head and touches his mouth to Nate's. "Yeah."

*

"I think I hate Christmas," Greta announces as they stand in the tree room, eyeing the fully decorated artificial Christmas tree display with some displeasure. "Who the fuck decorates their tree with peacocks? Not just feathers, but large fake birds! God!" 

"Sorry," Spencer says, shrugging. "Just, you know, try and think back to the time when you were allowed to decorate them all yourself. As opposed to the corporate office."

"That doesn't help," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. " _Peacocks_ , Spencer."

"They keep falling out of the tree."

"I'll have to wire the damned things on there." She sighs loudly and marches away, probably to find Katie and complain some more. Spencer decides it's time to get off the sales floor and ducks into the area where the artificial trees are stocked. 

Brendon looks up from the tangle of lights he's attempting to fix. He's got three replacement bulbs pressed between his lips. "Hey," he mumbles.

"Hey." Spencer gestures at the various strands of lights in heaps, waiting to be repaired. "How's it going?"

Brendon spits the bulbs onto the shelf beside his head. "Dude, I fucking hate Christmas."

*

Spencer stands in front of the light-up lawn ornaments display and tilts his head, trying to put his finger on what exactly is wrong with the whole thing. There's snowmen and Santas and... palm trees? "It looks like that Corona commercial, Gabe," he says.

"Hey, feliz navidad!" Gabe says, jumping down off the ladder and managing to look mildly offended.

"It's still ridiculous." Spencer climbs into the display in an effort to get his poinsettias away from the stupid palm tree. 

"Dude, dude, you know what is ridiculous? The fact that the holiday season is no longer about peace and love and joy, but instead about _shopping_." Gabe nods, like he believes this one-hundred percent, and walks into the display to help Spencer with the plants. 

"Have you managed to miss the fact that we work in _retail_?" Spencer asks, incredulous. "I mean, you've got a light-up baby Jesus next to the moving, blinking Rudolph, Gabe."

Gabe affects a complete look of horror, which Spencer has to admit is made even more hilarious by the fact that he was the one to put the entire display together. "Help me fix it, Spencer Smith," he says finally. "Please? With puppies and kittens and Cherry Coke on top?"

Spencer groans. He can't really escape, since he doesn't have anything else to do tonight. And he'd kind of like that soda. "Fine. As long as we don't have to add the dog statues."

*

He ends up having to work Christmas Eve, and Nate volunteers to come in as well. "I don't know why Dusty thought you both needed to be here," Brendon tells them, "but I am helpless in the face of your... adorable faces." He waves them away from his mess of Christmas trees that still need repairs. "Go restock the candy or something."

"Did you ever realize no other place in town sells this crap?" Nate says as they stand in front of the candy display. "Everyone else sells Snickers, Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, Milky Ways, M&M's..."

"Meanwhile, we sell Charleston Chew," Spencer finishes, making a face as he counts. "Of which we need two boxes of chocolate, one box of yellow, and one box of pink."

Nate writes it on his scrap of register tape. "At least there's the Butterfinger Crisp things." 

"The best candy we've got," Spencer sighs. He twirls the jellybean rack. "These are all expired, so we need every flavor. And five packages of Red Vines, two of that godawful saltwater taffy, and..." He eyes the last empty section of the display. "Circus peanuts and candy raisins."

Nate pretends to gag. "Soap! They taste like soap!"

"You don't have to tell me, dude. Me and Ryan replaced Jon's lunch with a bag of those fucking things once. We didn't realize that he actually _liked_ them. Then the next day, I found them making out behind the vegetable hut." He shudders at the memory. "They fell in love over _candy raisins_ , Nate."

Nate's eyes are wide. "That is the grossest story ever. I feel unclean now. I think I might have to wash my hands."

Spencer decides it best to accompany him, and they end up making out next to the boxes of Junior Mints (a much better candy to fall in love to, in Spencer's opinion) in the back. 

 

4\. 

Springtime comes and the leaves are back on the trees again, branches studded with tiny green buds and new life just starting to uncurl. Spencer manages to tell his mom he's staying at Nate's for a week without dying of embarrassment. She seems unconcerned, though, and just tells him to have fun and not skip any classes (Arboriculture II, Landscape Plants, and Land Management I), and gives him a big Tupperware container of cookies to take with. 

He'd confessed to Ryan the week before that while they'd been making out on a fairly regular basis, he and Nate hadn't done anything else. "I mean, the only time we really see each other is here," he'd said, waving a hand at the building. "And while Nate has made me feel less like this place is trying to suck out my soul through my ear, a) I would like to see him outside of here, and b) I don't know the first thing about having sex with another guy." And then he'd been really glad he and Ryan had been friends so long, because he'd never been more embarrassed to say something out loud. 

"You've, uhm, thought about it, though, right?" Ryan had asked, half-coughing, jamming his fork into his salad. 

"Yeah." 

"Then you've probably figured most of it out." Ryan put a hand over his eyes. "I can't believe we're having this conversation, Spencer."

"Dude, I _know_."

*

"Spencer, tell Katie this vase does not look like a penis," Brendon calls, and Spencer stops dead in the middle of the gift gallery. 

"Did you just say what I think you said?" he asks, looking around the corner, half-afraid of what he might end up being witness to. 

Brendon and Katie are standing behind the design counter. There's a mound of silk flowers, which they are ignoring, and a black vase, which they are staring at in horror. "Brendon, it's a penis with _three balls_ ," Katie whispers. "I think you might need to hold me, I'm so scared."

Spencer arches an eyebrow and looks at the vase. It _is_ vaguely penis-shaped. "Don't you guys remember the statue of the little boy peeing?" he asks. "That was worse."

Brendon chokes back a laugh as Katie's eyes widen. "No, no, Spence. The naked kid bathing figurine was the worst one."

There's a moment of silence in remembrance of what had been, until Jon had knocked it off the shelf on purpose, the most bizarre piece of merchandise in the entire store. Even Patrick had agreed it was terrifying. "You weren't here for that travesty," Spencer says to Katie, who is shaking her head and trying very hard not to laugh. "Be glad. Be _very_ glad."

*

He's refilling the cut flowers when there's a huge crash and someone lets out a shriek. He grabs the broom and dustpan out of habit and runs down the aisle, nearly knocking over the customer who'd shouted. He drops the broom when he sees Nate sitting on the floor, surrounded by what's left of one of the huge clay pots. "Dude, are you okay?" he asks, his heart in his throat, and sinks to his knees next to Nate. "Did you get stabbed by any of it? Should I call 911?"

"No, no," Nate gasps. "I didn't land on it. None of my injuries are life-or-limb threatening. I think I just twisted my ankle." He looks towards his foot. Spencer pushes his khakis up his leg, pulls his sock down a little. Nate's ankle is swelling, but not so rapidly that Spencer's ready to deem it a serious injury. Nate wraps his hand around Spencer's wrist. "You're still coming over tonight, right?" he asks.

Spencer grins. "Yeah." 

"Good."

And Spencer would kiss him, right there in the aisle amid the broken pottery, but Brendon comes around the corner groaning about accident reports and broken merchandise, so he doesn't. Instead, he helps Nate to his feet and holds him steady as Brendon sweeps the area clear enough that he can kneel down and look at Nate's ankle. 

"You know what?" Brendon says finally, sitting back on his heels. "Go home early. Both of you. I'll fill out the report for you, Nate." And then he calls after them as Spencer assists Nate in hopping towards the punch clock, "don't forget to elevate your foot, dude! Spencer, make him put ice on it!", and Nate pushes his face into Spencer's neck and laughs, holding on tight. 

*

"Cookie?" Spencer offers, holding out the tub. 

Nate smiles up at him. "Thanks."

"How's your foot feel now?"

"The ice and Advil helped," Nate replies. "Spence. Stop fluttering around and come sit with me."

Spencer puts the cookies on the table and sits down next to Nate, who fists his hands in Spencer's shirt (light blue with fluffy white clouds, no writing) and climbs into his lap. "Your ankle," Spencer murmurs, but that doesn't stop him from sliding his hands into Nate's hair and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Here, let's-" he says, and adjusts them so that Nate is laying across his thighs. "There."

"Excellent," Nate breathes, and then "thanks" as Spencer tucks a pillow underneath his foot. 

"So, uhm," Spencer murmurs. 

"Yeah." 

Spencer leans down, licks a stripe up Nate's neck, feeling him shiver. Watches Nate pull his shirt up just a little, like an invitation, one he really wants to accept. Slides his hand, flat, up under Nate's shirt, feeling hard muscle tense under his palm. "Okay?"

"Mm-hmm." Nate winds his arm around Spencer's neck, brings their mouths together. "Keep going," he whispers, breath hot against Spencer's lips. "I can feel you," he says, so quietly that Spencer barely hears him, and Spencer groans and pushes his tongue into Nate's mouth, licking, tasting with long strokes until he's sure that the little whimpering noises Nate's making mean he's given up talking. 

*

Nate's bed is nice and warm and contains lots of fuzzy blankets and also _Nate_ , and Spencer pronounces it way better than the couch. It takes some maneuvering to get comfortable, especially with Nate's foot needing several pillows, and they end up with Nate on his back and Spencer curled against him. "Does it hurt?" Spencer asks.

"Kinda. But I'm ignoring it."

Spencer kisses his shoulder. "Are you going to class tomorrow?"

"Probably not. Are you?"

"I, uhm, I promised my mom I wouldn't skip," he laughs. "But she won't know."

"Good. Come here." Nate tugs on his shirt and Spencer wiggles a little closer, slipping one of his legs over Nate's uninjured one. "I can feel your heart beating," Nate whispers in his ear, and Spencer breathes out, heavy against Nate's neck. "Do you, uhm..." Nate turns his head, bites at Spencer's lip. Spencer's not sure what he's actually asking, but he pulls his shirt off, then Nate's. Traces Nate's collarbone with his tongue, which makes Nate's breath catch. 

Spencer smiles against his skin and slides his hand to the button on Nate's khakis. "Can I?" he asks, and Nate's hips rise in answer. "That's a yes, right?"

"Mmm," is Nate's reply. Spencer glances up. Nate's eyes are closed and his face is flushed. Spencer pops the button and slips his hand underneath the waistband, into Nate's boxers. So far, it's not much different than touching himself, except it's someone else. It's Nate, and Spencer has been imagining doing this since _August_. His fingertips brush over Nate's dick, just barely, and they both catch their breath.

"Try not to move," Spencer whispers, unable to stop grinning. "Since you're injured and everything."

"Shut up," Nate breathes. Spencer rubs his palm over Nate's length, listening to the tiny noises he makes, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses to his neck. "Spencer," Nate whispers, wiggling his hips. " _Spencer_."

"Shh," Spencer whispers.

"We're the only ones here, we don't have to be quiet," Nate replies, laughing. Spencer slides his thumb over the head of Nate's cock, and that seems to work to shut him up. 

With his free hand, he shoves at Nate's clothes. "Lift your hips," he says, and Nate does, reaching down to help. Together they get his pants and boxers to his knees, which is good enough for Spencer, because now he can _see_ , and fuck, it's hot. He kisses Nate, sucks on his tongue in the same rhythm he's using on Nate's cock, until neither of them can breathe and he's grinding his erection against Nate's naked hip. 

"Fuck, Spence, take your clothes off," Nate hisses. "I wanna see you."

"No, you're gonna come first," Spencer says, and then blinks at what he'd just said. Nate blinks too, but his cock is hot and heavy in Spencer's hand, and he's making those little breathless noises in his throat again, so Spencer figures it was a good thing to say, and keeps stroking. Nate lets go of the blanket he's clutching and slides his hand between his thigh and Spencer's crotch, and gropes him through his khakis. 

"Ohgod," Spencer gasps, looking down to watch Nate's dick in the circle of his fingers, tightening his grip just a little bit, and then Nate _whines_ and comes, wetness pulsing over Spencer's hand. It's possibly the hottest thing Spencer has ever seen with his own eyes and he keeps touching Nate lightly, until Nate pushes his hand away, breathing heavily. 

Spencer raises his fingers to his mouth and licks tentatively. Nate tracks the movement. "Spence, wait, here-" He rolls partly over and fishes some clean tissues out from between the wall and the mattress, cleans off Spencer's hand, then kisses his palm. "That was awesome," he says. "Are you gonna take your pants off now? That has to be uncomfortable."

It's not entirely uncomfortable, since Nate's thigh is still pressed against him and all he needs is some friction, really, and another ten seconds at most. But Nate's pulling his zipper down and sliding his hand into Spencer's boxers, and kissing him all at the same time. "Nate," Spencer tries to murmur into Nate's mouth, but it comes out an incomprehensible groan because Nate is _touching him_ , just barely, and then Spencer's coming, shuddering against Nate, trying to touch as much of his skin as possible at once. 

"Wow," he hears Nate whisper, and he hides his face against Nate's shoulder. "Uhm, Spence, can we do that again?"

"Sleep," Spencer groans in reply, not even caring that he's gross and sticky and Nate's hand is still in his pants. But then he sits up and disentangles himself. "Maybe I should clean up first," he whispers. Nate makes _stay here, don't go_ gestures at him, and Spencer leans down quickly, giving in to one more kiss, before he digs his pajamas out of his backpack and goes into the bathroom.

*

He wakes up to Nate curled along his back, the sun creeping through the gaps in the curtains. Spencer takes a moment to look around the room. There's clothes heaped everywhere, and shoes, and piles of DVDs and textbooks. On top of the overflowing bookshelf is the philodendron he'd let Nate take home the first day they'd worked together. It's glossy and healthy, and next to it he can see cuttings in little cups of water. 

"I even named her," Nate murmurs in his ear, his arm curving around Spencer's waist. 

"Yeah?"

"Aphrodite."

Spencer finds Nate's hand and nuzzles his palm. "I like it."

"I like you," Nate says, yawning. "We're skipping class, dude. Go back to sleep."

Spencer snuggles back into him, smiling against Nate's wrist, and says, "As long as we're not late for work."


End file.
